City of Broken Dreams
by woolabaloo
Summary: In the broken ruins of the city of Stalingrad, surrounded by war and suffering a group of young girls band together to try to keep that which is most important to them, hope.
1. Chapter 1

_Historical Context!:_

 _In the winter 1942 the German Army is over a year into their invasion of the Soviet Union, their conflict brings them to the City of Stalingrad, the Germans overtake the Western half of the city but the fighting rages still. Stalin's orders however, condemn the city's residents, ordering them to be left in the city in the thick of the fighting. This story focuses on a small group of them, desperately attempting to survive, or at least, it will, for now I focus on a single girl._

The soft crunch of snow and rubble beneath her feet seemed oddly loud even through the distant sounds of artillery. Glancing nervously down the street to confirm it was clear she turned her attention to the building in front of her. While the large brick and wood building wasn't noteworthy in itself, its relative lack of damage and distance from the fighting made it an appealing prospect to the young girl. She braced herself and, making a last check to ensure herself that the road was clear, made a mad dash towards the entrance.

Panting with relief and fatigue, she began to survey her new surroundings, despite the minor damage the building appeared to be relatively intact. Ignoring her pangs of hunger she began her search. The chipped plastered walls over dull bricks blended in with the dust and traces of rubble. She noted that most of the unfinished wooden doors stood open, either broken off their hinges by other citizens desperately looking for food, or, Svetlana reflected, if she was really unlucky, equally desperate soldiers. She clung her coat tightly to her out of both cold and nervousness and trudged on.

The broken remnants of the apartments yielded little, even the beds appeared to be stripped of all of their materials by those attempting to escape the harsh Russian winter. The kitchens were dishearteningly bare and served only to remind Svetlana of her own lack of food. At the end of the hallway however a closed wooden door grabbed her attention. Approaching on light feet and opening the door slowly, Svetlana was greeted by a battered wooden staircase descending into a dark concrete cellar. She reflected only momentarily before the pain in her stomach got the best of her, descending into the darkness.

Mercifully, the small room was home to only a large boiler and some shelves of odd tools, a tarp and other items related to the maintenance of the room, a brief survey, yielded hope in the form of a small, labeless tin can. Svetlana, picked it up, shaking it expectantly. The mix of solid and liquid inside seemed to confirm her suspicions that there was some form of foodstuff inside. Placing the can on the metal corner of the boiler's base, she slammed heavily on its bottom and was rewarded as the lid gave way and the pungent odor of pickled herring began to eminante from the can.

While it far from filled her up, the fish had taken the edge off of her hunger, though a small part of her believed she should have saved the rest for later, having food in her stomach helped to put her mind at ease and give her some sense of safety. Grabbing the tarp off the shelves she curled into a small bundle in an alcove behind the boiler, the cold still managed to creep in, as it always did, but Svetlana, exhausted as she was managed to drift off to sleep.

She awoke with to the bright morning sun streaming in through a small window. She slowly stirred up, her warm tarp cocoon and comparative fullness, making her lethargic in the early morning cold. Suddenly however, she sat up in alarm.

A man's voice had cut through the air, 'Lena, stay back.'

Svetlana pressed herself to the wall, burying herself under the tarp in an attempt to camouflage herself.

"Lena, I told you, stay up there, I want to make sure it's clear here."

Another voice grumbled something, younger, female. Svetlana could not make out the words.

Footsteps began to sound from the top of the stairs, slow and methodical. They stopped and began to soften as the man stepped onto the soft dirt floors of the cellar.

After a tense minute's wait a face turned the corner to greet Svetlana. Its features old and rugged, clearly the product of many hard years of labor, but its expression appeared to have little malice behind it and Svetlana allowed herself to relax a bit. The man turned back towards the stairs 'Lena, it's alright, it's just a girl'. He turned back to Svetlana, 'What are you doing out here by yourself girl?'

'I uh-,' Svetlana began mentally stumbling over possible responses. 'I was just-uh...'

The man held up a had dismissively, 'there is no need for that, it's actually none of my buisness, we've all been through our own trials.'

Svetlana heard a noise come from the top of the stairs and a young girl, well, she was probably only a year or two younger than herself, peaked out from the top of the stairs 'who is it papa?'

The man let out a brief chortle 'I don't know Lena, I hadn't gotten a proper introduction yet'. He turned back to Svetlana, leaning over and holding out a hand, 'My name is Evgeny,' Svetlana hesitated before nervously accepting his greeting.

Either the hesitation was lost on him or he decided to ignore it as he immediately turned towards the other girl with a wide sweeping motion of his arms, 'this is my granddaughter, Lena'.

Lena simply returned a nervous wave and began descending the stairs.

"You're deep in the city girl, are you alone?", Svetlana nodded and Evgeny continues, stroking his graying stubble, "We just came from up north, it's getting violent up there, hard to move too, with the Nazis all around." Svetlana nodded again, unsure of how else to respond.

Frowning slightly at Svetlana's reluctance to engage in conversation, the man continued, "Anyways, my father always used to tell me, 'don't fret, what you can't fix.' I think he referred more to bad harvests than armed invasions, but there's little we can do about it regardless." He let out a laughter, a bit forced but it helped disarm the tension.

Finally finding a way to break the ice, he stood up and turned back away from the boiler's alcove. "Lena! Close the door, we don't need unwanted company. We'll stay the night here provided our new friend doesn't object," he made a quick glance at Svetlana to determine if she would interject before departing to attend to making preparations for their stay.

Svetlana peaked further, the man and his granddaughter were unpacking the burlap rucksack that Evgeny had carried, several thin blankets, sheets really, a small portion of bread, and several small trinkets seemed to be their only worldly possessions. The man broke off a small piece of the bread before handing it the Lena. For the first time, Svetlana saw his expression towards herself turn slightly dour as he broke off a noticeably smaller piece and offered it to her.

Realizing the foolishness of turning down food in her situation, Svetlana scooted herself closer to the man and accepted the offering. He smiled slightly. "You don't talk much do you girl? Didn't even give me your name."

Svetlana hesitated, "Sorry I... I haven't really had too many people to talk to, my name is Svetlana."

Lena spoke up "I like that name, it is good, my cousin was named Svetlana. She was a nice girl."

Svetlana offered a smile and began nibbling on the bread, determined to make it last. It was extremely stale.

The silence continued. Until Svetlana spotted something on the other girl's finger.

"I like your ring," she commented softly after the last of the bread was finished.

The girl gave her an alarmed look and clutched the bright green jewel behind her hand. She put a visible effort into regaining her composure "Umm... uh... thanks... It was a... gift."

Svetlana puzzled briefly over the visible nervousness of the girl before remembering the trinkets she herself had found in the former houses and apartments of the city. Though unlike Lena all of hers were long since traded away or lost and she was long past feeling guilty over it."

The girl however seemed intent on moving past the subject leading to an awkward silence between the two. Thankfully Evgeny broke the awkwardness, "Lena", he called, holding up a small dusty brown book, "want to continue where we left off?"

Lena smiled, a moved herself closer to her grandfather, leaning up against the dusty brick wall with him. Svetlana, remained in place, anchored against the boiler, though she too listen intently as the old man began his story, while Svetlana found herself utterly lost, given that the two of them had clearly been reading it for quite some time. She found herself entertained by the old man's story, a tale of betrayal and violence towards a young Kievan princess and her later bloody revenge against the barbarians that killed her husband. The way the old man would change his voice for various characters, and gesture wildly and excitedly with his offhand in heated moments of the story led dramatic presence to the tale.

It was with regret that Evgeny closed the book, hours later and gave a soft paternal look to his grandaughter "Alright Lena, it is time to sleep, we'll head out at night, try and see if we can't get back to friendly Russia, you'll need all of your strength."

"Don't you need to sleep too papa?" The young girl questioned. Bringing a spark of laughter from the older man.

"More than you know my child," he turned to Svetlana, "While you're not my grandaughter, you might as well get some sleep too, whether you decide to come with us tomorrow or not, you can never be too rested."

Svetlana gave an uncertain nod, but felt no reason to object, she returned to her small nest besides the boiler and drifted off to sleep.

She found herself dreaming of her old farm, her unconscious mind reflecting how long it had been, since she had been there, was it five, years? Six, actually, she had left when she was nine, how time passes.

The farm was just as she had left, only, off somehow, the buildings older, more worn down. In the middle, between the home and the farm, a girl stood, Svetlana did not recognize her, but she wore a bright yellow dress, edges frayed and streaked with mud, she looked completely unconcerned with the falling snow. She turned to Svetlana and gave a harsh predatory grin, twisting a small knife. Behind her, coming into focus within the dream, a small pile of bloated corpses festered, their sickly graying look made it hard to identify but Svetlana found herself desperately sad over some of the shapes for reasons she didn't understand.

Before she had the time to question the mysterious dream girl however, Svetlana found herself being shaken harshly awake. Groggy and disoriented she opened her eyes to find herself in direct eye contact with Evgeny, he raised his finger to his mouth in a shushing motion.

Svetlana bolted upwards, alarmed and pushed herself further into her alcove. Glancing around, she noticed Lena crouched a short distance behind her granfather, the girl appeared wide eyed with fright, staring desperately towards the two of them.

Evgeny was briefly taken aback, clearly not expecting a strong defensive reaction from Svetlana, he regained his composure shortly and pointing silently towards the ceiling.

Svetlana paused. From above she could make out the sound of several pairs of heavy boots treading too and fro in the upstairs apartments. She listened intently, the sound of accompanying voices echoed alongside them. Male voices, German voices. She turned towards Evgeny, who in turn turned back towards Lena waving her over to the alcove.

Lena obliged, huddling in close to the two of them and looking up at her grandfather with desperate expectation.

The man spoke in a scarce whisper, "You two, stay behind the boiler, I will do my best to keep them out of the basement."

Lena shot him an alarmed and pleading look "Are you going up there papa?"

"No, my child, I'll stay down here, try and keep them at the top of the stairs, don't worry, we'll all get through this fine." He glanced at both girls to ensure they understood and gave them a weak but somehow reassuring smile.

Lena, on the edge of tears, nodded nervously, Svetlana grimaced and said nothing and pushed herself further into the alcove. When Lena continued to loiter in sight of the basement door, she gave a harsh tug to the girl's collar, pulling her into the recessed area.

How long they waited, Svetlana wasn't sure, in those tense situations she found that her concept of time became oddly muddled. Soon however, a harsh voice sounded, only slightly muffled by the door at the top of the stairs followed by the sound of it being aggressively thrown open. A voice loudly called out in German and Svetlana felt her companion cling tightly to her.

"I'm sorry," she heard Evgeny respond, "I don't speak German."

The voice turned and countered, another voice responded, calmer but with an edge of authority. The first voice responded, and the sound of heavy boots on the stairs began.

"Please gentlemen, there's no need to be hasty!", Evgeny responded, the nervousness in his voice quite noticeable, no doubt even through the language barrier. He began to ascend the stairs towards the Germans.

The first voice became louder more authoritative.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what you are saying."

Slower this time the booted feet came down the stairs, accompanied by the harsh barking commands of their owner.

"Please, I'll cooperate I-"

A shot rang out.

To Svetlana's alarm Lena threw herself around the corner, desperate tears welling in her eyes. When she reached the edge of the alcove the girl sunk to her knees and began silently sobbing into the dirt floor.

The first man began his yelling anew, his voice plainly directed at the girl now in his sight. Svetlana panicked, and attempted to reach over and pull the girl back into the saftey of the alcove. Lena remained planted firmly in place, a choking sob now accompanying her tears.

Svetlana heard the soft sound of breaking glass. The choking sob turned into a desperate wail, taking on a slow unearthly quality to it as it crescendoed into a deafening banshee howl and a strong gust of wind began whipping its way through the basement. Svetlana, threw her hands to her ears, the renewed of the men on the stairs all but drowned out by the unearthly wailing.

The wind reached battering speeds, the screams tearing at Svetlana's ears. The battering subdued briefly and instantaneously before a wave of blinding green light and earthshaking force threw Svetlana into the wall behind her.

Whiteness overcame her.

 _Authors note time:_

 _For starters, this is literally the first time I've written a fan fiction and probably the first real story I've written in years. I'd really appreciate constructive feedback, criticisms or ideas. I'm kind of rusty at writing so any feedback is greatly appreciated._


	2. Chapter 2

Svetlana groaned, her slow return to consciousness steadily informing her that she was hurt. With a harsh hiss of pain she clutched her chest, rolling herself over and bringing herself up on her knees, when she opened her eyes however, the pain in her ribs became a secondary concern.

She was no longer in the basement, instead she found herself on the city streets or at the very least, a crude imitation of the city streets. The buildings, no longer broken and ruined, loomed curving and malevolent over the road, stretching nearly infinitely into the horizon their bricks almost impossibly bright shades of red brown. The ground still, was coated in thick show, which vividly sparkled like a sheet of white ceramic lain over the cobblestone. Large red and patriotic banners streamed from the tops of the buildings, in the distance the wounded girl heard children singing patriotic songs she couldn't make out.

She turned, vainly attempting to make out the sounds of the singing or at least some sort of landmark, or destination, but the impossible street stretched on from what seemed to be horizon to horizon.

She stood up, clutching her ribs, wincing with her first step and suddenly aware that she had probably taken a bigger beating than she had initially thought. Dragging her battered body to the nearest building, she began a closer inspection, which rather clearly revealed to her the inherent wrongness of the structure.

The bright blue door seemed to lack a knob or hinges, instead the visually wooden door merged seamlessly into the brick building, placing a hand upon it revealed a texture smooth and cold like glass. She considered knocking but something about that idea filled her with a sense of unease she couldn't identify the source of.

A short burst of automatic fire interrupted her musings, the singing of the children began to grow louder and soon periodic rifle fire joined the cacophony. Svetlana continued studying the door when a sharp whistle sounded from her left.

Turning, she noticed a lone figure skipping down the road, its limbs and head flailing wildly like a puppet whose strings were in the hands of an excited child. It wore a bright blue policeman's uniform in the fashion of a stereotypical bobby, though disturbingly it looked more painted on than worn. In one hand it carried a large wooden billy club and skipped aggressively in the girl's direction a good ways away, but gaining ground at an alarming pace.

Abandoning all thoughts to the contrary at the sight of the aggressive looking toy man, Svetlana began groping the doorframe for some sort of latch or handle, failing to find anything of the sort, she backed up, turned her head away and slammed her shoulder aggressively into it.

The door shattered into a thousand razor thin shards as the already injured girl careened through it, the sharp edges biting deeply into her shoulder and arm and side inflicting deep gashes along her flank, carried through by her momentum, Svetlana staggered forward before stopping briefly in her new found surroundings.

She found herself in a thin alley, which winded it's way through some small brick buildings, unlike the childlike facade she had just left, these were tall and dominating, looming above her and almost threatening to swallow her, their dark, almost black exteriors and chipped and broken walls reminded her of a somehow even more imposing version of the city she had survived in these past weeks. Intermittently upon the walls were bright red posters, reminiscent of the Party propaganda, but written in a strange runic writing that even she knew was not Russian.

Taking a step forward her shock at the sudden change in scenery was interrupted by another blast from the whistle. Glancing behind at the neat door sized void in the alley that opened into the rowhouses, she clutched her ribs with her good arm and began her best attempt at running.

The singing was louder here, a chorus of voices reminiscent of the state children's choirs the party was so fond of. Contrary to the street from earlier, its direction was clearly identifiable by Svetlana and while she briefly considered the possible threats, especially given the stray rifle shots coming from the area, wandering aimlessly through the alleys of a city that violated spacetime by a strange aggressive puppet man seemed, in of itself the more immediate danger and she desperately needed something to go towards. So she soldiered on towards the noise, the sharp whistling behind her continuing a ways back in intermittent puffs.

The walls and ground of alleys themselves seemed to be devoid of color, but the sky buzzed with an orange fiery light, making navigation difficult but possible, her painful rush through the alleyways getting progressively harder as more of her blood ended up as messy handprints on the wall, marking her hasty escape. She noted that the rifle fire had all but died out at this point, but faint and panicked yelling in German could be heard.

Rounding a corner, she finally found the source of at least some of the rifle fire. A man lay against the wall slumped over and immobile, his dull gray uniform blending in with the shadows, contrasting vividly with the bright sprays of blood, thrown about as if red paint was brushed with large strokes upon the wall and his body. The ever closing sounds of the whistle reminded her not to mingle and she trudged onward, hoping desperately that some sort of exit or salvation lay at the end.

Eventually, in the distance, the ever-winding alleyways gave way to an open field of dull brown, continuing on in her forlorn hope for salvation, Svetlana rushed forward blindly into the fields. Noting in the back of her mind the ever increasing volume of the whistle, almost drowned out at this point by the borderline chanting music of the children's choir.

Once she got there however, the whistle seemed, perhaps like the lesser of two evils.

In the middle of a large open expanse of dull dead farmland, a caricature of a medieval fortress burned in the dark night sky, its walls full of deep cracks and impractically high given the relatively small footprint the structure took up.

The being in its center however demanded much more of her attention. An absolutely massive monster, a cloth hand puppet stitched hastily together, bobbed almost childlike from side to side, seeming unconcerned with the flames wracking its lower body. Upon its head, a dull copper crown with a bright green gem slanted lazily to one side. In a manner almost mimicking the crown, a circle of white birds formed overhead, screeching wildly as flames engulfed their bodies.

Limping, the young woman took a step backwards, concern for the puppet man being forced into the back of her priority list, noting the array of still smoldering corpses surrounding the monster's redoubt, in many cases still clutching the melted remains of their rifles.

The puppet-queen turned, facing its dull sewn on frown towards the interloper the soulless button eyes facing staring her down. The birds above began shrieking ever louder and diving lower to meet the newfound prey.

Svetlana took a step back and almost as if provoked, the birds began diving directly at her, their bodies shooting past and nipping her with teasing flames as the birds shrieked past, joining the now rabid and violent songs of the invisible choir. She closed her eyes

A loud bang sounded and the birds let out a series of alarmed squawks. Svetlana felt a wave of heat pass by her face.

She opened her eyes, ahead of her stood a girl, younger than her by a good year neatly folding up the stand on a long gold engraved arquebus. Despite the obvious expense of the weapon, her clothing was battered and worn, a thick gray trenchcoat and wool pants seemed at odds with her finely crafted weapon and neatly styled hair. "Natasha! I've got the familiars!" She declared in a light and dignified voice.

A smaller girl stood basking under the shadow of the burning fortress wielding a medium sized war hammer and a drummed-fed submachinegun. Like the first girl, she wore a thick and ratty brown wool jacket and plain pants, with her short brown hair hanging loosely. "That's fantastic Anna, but I told you, the familiars here are not a problem, just focus on the witch itself."

"But there was a girl..."

"I don't care who's here, they're not our problem."

Anna, gave a mirthful but apologetic look to Svetlana before cascading into the air to an alarming height.

The puppet-queen turned, drawing a flaming sword from the depths of its fortress, letting out an unearthly roar. The girls appeared unconcerned, the smaller one hefted her war hammer by its upper handle and raised her submachingun, deftly jumping to the side, avoiding the sundering blow the puppet-queen attempted to land on her, firing loose bursts of her weapon towards the monsters exposed face.

The first girl took advantage of the monster's lull, hefting her arquebus up, she fired into back of the monster's head, sending it into an enraged banshee howl. Flipping furiously around to engage the new threat. The children's choir began singing in a frantic pace, their music turning into a borderline occult chant.

But the smaller girl was quicker to respond, slinging her submachinegun, she hefted her hammer up in two hands, the handle lengthening to accommodate the larger grip, wordlessly she kicked off the burnt ground sailing through the air and readying her warhammer.

The blow was audible from Svetlana's relatively distant position, a fierce cracking noise sent the puppet-queen reeling. The responsible girl turned to her comrade "Finish it!"

The arqebus girl landed, not acknowledging the comment but carefully flipping her weapon's monopod down and taking a long aimed shot at the beast. A serious look taking her face.

A single round was fired, trailing bright green light it rolled out of the arquebus before cascading into a brilliant conical shower of smaller beams, each dazzling round carving large chunks out of the puppet-queen's makeshift body.

The first girl landed, turning towards the monster as it flailed about, screeching and roaring, the invisible choir's music turning into wailing banshee screams of distress as the puppet fell into itself, as though the controlling hand were pulled slowly from its body. The great walls of the fortress, began crumbling, falling outwards as a wave of lose gravel.

The warhammer girl regarded the destruction casually "Anna, grab the seed." She turned to the helplessly and rapidly bleeding girl walking slowly towards her, not breaking her stride she casually lifted her submachinegun and fired a quick burst.

Svetlana, winced, then upon noticing the lack of fatal bullet wounds, turned behind her. In the doorway leading to the alleyways, Svetlana noticed the ruined body of the policeman puppet, the thanks on her lips died however as she turned to her saviors scowl and the frightening and unknown hellscape around her began to dissipate into the more well known hellscape she had lived in for the past few weeks.

The girl proceeded to return to ignoring Svetlana, "Anna did you get the seed?"

"Yes! It's right here!"

"Good, lets go."

The adrenaline of the fight began wearing down and pain began taking its place, Svetlana's knees fell out from under her, weakly noting the intense pain in her right arm, she began her best attempt to stop the increasingly alarming amount of blood from escaping.

Through her steadily blurring vision, Svetlana made out a grey shape making its way to the side of the girl standing before her.

"Shouldn't we help her or something?"

"Why?"

"Well she's hurt..." The girl countered weakly.

"So is a good deal of the city, hurt or dead, not exactly our issue. She almost let the familiar eat her anyway, what use is she to us?"

"I think we should take her back to the storeroom with the others."

"I'm not taking her anywhere, if you want to carry around a near-corpse you can explain it to the others when you get back and she starts, if she recovers, eating through all of our supplies."

Anna let out a half-hearted protest before darkness overcame Svetlana.


	3. Chapter 3 (finally)

(So, sorry for the delay, I wrote this intro out 3 times before finally being satisfied with the way that charaters are introduced, to be honest I still am not 100% but the story must go on. Some life issues also came up but I should be good to continue now. I know it's short, but it's from a much longer portion, but I pulled it out to post as a 'progress point' to indicate that this story is not completely dead. Again apologies, this is my first fanfic)

Svetlana stirred, slowly, her mind piecing together the new incoming sensory information during the steady rise from deep sleep.

Groggily, she opened her eyes.

While it initially felt normal given her sleep deprived state, she was surprised to find herself snuggled warmly between the covers of a bed, albeit a lumpy one, she took note of her surroundings.

She found herself in a well maintained shelter, some sort of a basement or dugout. Its walls were plaster cracked brick the same as the rest of the city but there were well maintained beds lining the walls and colorful party propaganda posters coating the sides. Lockers, chests, and drawers carried the odd personal affects of the owners, ranging from cold weather clothes to photos and dolls. On the far wall a small table stood with a fur hat placed gingerly atop it with several candles flanking the display and a simple cross pendant hanging from a scene above it. Between herself and the display a small passageway glowed with distant candlelight.

The groggy girl found her newly found situation odd even before taking the rest of her sensory details into account.

She began to rise, throwing the sheets off of herself in an attempt to survey the situation. However a tug on her wrist painfully interrupted her ascent, a thin ornate gold chain bound her wrist to the lower end of a bunkbed.

Svetlana gave an alarmed look to her newly discovered binding, before glancing around the room again, still empty, but she now noted that it was indeed very clearly lived in. Turning her attention back to the chain, she she gave it a hard tug, the chain dug into her wrist but remained unbroken.

Alarmed at her inability to escape, Svetlana began to grow more frantic, tugging harshly on the chain and being greeted with no favorable results. Desperate, she kicked her feet against the post, wrapped the chain around her hands, and pulled fiercely upon her bindings, the creaking of the bed and groaning of wood began to give her the feeling of a progress, but the chain dug deeply into her hands, drawing small trickles of blood along the parts where it met flesh.

Finally with a loud final groan, the post gave way, momentum throwing Svetlana backwards and gravity dropping an upper bunk upon her.

Pushing the ruined bed off of herself she rolled onto the packed earthen floor, landing with a soft groan. She pushed herself up and surveyed her injuries; long bloody lines cut into her hands and wrists, she gave a mutter curse of annoyance and noted curiously that the elegant golden chain remained firmly fastened to her wrist. The pain however reminded her of the far more serious injuries she had suffered from the earlier attack, taking account of her condition she noted with both relief and surprise that no pain remained from the encounter before. Checking the locations of previous wounds confirmed it, all that remained was pinkish and sensitive skin.

There were however the more pressing current injuries, Svetlana glanced around her close proximity and with a hint of reluctance at violating such a pristine and relatively clean bed, tore two small chunks out of the bedsheet's corner, wrapping them as impromptu bandages around the bloody hands.

Svetlana now took more time to analyze her environment, despite being a small living quarters it didn't appear to belong to the large amount of soldiers who called the city home. For, despite the military cold weather gear, stockpiles of rations, and an alarmingly large pile of various automatic weapons tucked in the corner, the amount of personal affects indicated a more almost casual and familial environment.

Pausing briefly in contemplation and interest, Svetlana decided that her captors home lives were not the pressing issue and stood up. Despite her awareness of the large amount of noise her escape caused, she moved to look down the narrow entranceway with as much stealth as she could muster.

She was met with a thin brick hallway passing straight down with several entranceways marking access to other rooms, at the far end a wooden staircase ascended into the ceiling.

Moving quietly, Svetlana crept from passage to passage to check that she was alone, the various rooms were fashioned in an improvised manner but one that clearly indicated a desire for comfortable living, the various rooms were furnished as one would expect in a house, albeit in mismatched and damaged furniture and decor.

A sound from the floors above stopped her short, two voices, female, sounded from the top of the stairs. Alarmed, Svetlana surveyed her surrounding, ducking into a small room that revealed itself to be an impromptu kitchen and nestling herself behind some crates. The voices descended. Listening intently they began to form understandable words.

A voice, young, but thick in experience came into range first "-tracking one over to the north of the square, it was fast, we'll need the whole team together to try and bag it but it should be a good haul."

A second voice cut in, younger but a bit hoarse, "When did you want to set out?"

"As soon as we figure out what to do with that injured girl Anna brought back," She sighed audibly as she passed beyond the entranceway into the kitchen, "Honestly Anna what were you thinking..."

A third voice cut in, "I-uh, I didn't want to leave her..."

The first sighed again stopping in what sounded like the middle of the hall "Honestly you're too kind for your own good." The voice redirected "Is she awake Natasha."

"Shouldn't be, I left to take a smoke but she was still out cold then..."

A pair of footsteps trailed down the hall towards the room Svetlana had awoken in, she began to debate her chances at fleeing and weighing her options when a frustrated cry of "Fuck" interrupted her chain of thought.

The first girl's voice sounded from down the hall, "Hey Natasha, so, she's not here..."

"What the fuck? I chained her to the bedpost."

Anna piped up quietly but with conviction "Was that necessary?"

The first girl took a series of angry steps back towards her companions, prompting Svetlana to unconsciously pull herself closer to the crates she was hiding behind. She took a harsh tone, "Well, you got to admire her tenacity at least, she fucked your bed up bad...Anna?"

"Huh?" The girl piqued absent-mindedly.

"Can you do that thing you do?"

"Oh-uh, yeah right," From the hallway a bright flash of green light momentarily blinded Svetlana, before settling into a dull glow. She attempted to pull herself more forcefully into the corner. A girl began faintly humming in a tuneless manner in a way that indicating she was moving with cheerful purpose.

Footsteps approached and stopped by the door, the surreal green light shining on the room's contents. The voice identified as Anna cut through the almost ethereal sensation the glow brought, the silence broken by a general address to the room, "I know you're there, we're not going to hurt you." The voice then spoke aside to the others in the hallway "Let me talk to her okay?"

Svetlana sighed, and positioned herself in an upright position, slowly peeking over the top of the crate, noting with a mixture of nervousness and embarrassment that the owner of the voice was staring right at her hiding place.

The owner was dressed quite absurdly given the current climate of the city, her hair was neat and tidy in a brown bun, a frilled and aged green dress matched the dull glow of the strange gem she carried delicately in her cupped hands. She cast a warm smile towards Svetlana. "Sorry for scaring you, we weren't trying to make you our prisoner or anything, it's just the others, they tend to be nervous around new people. Especially strange girls we find in labyrinths."

Svetlana opened her mouth to attempt to speak but her words were caught in a confused scowl.

"You're not contracted are you?" The girl asked with curiosity "That should make introductions easier for you, the others tend not to view competition favorably. I'm Anna by the way, nice to meet you!" She gave the wounded and confused girl a warm smile.

"Svetlana," said Svetlana who continued her confused grimace, which grew deeper as memories of before were spurred on by the earlier comment, "What... what the hell happened? I was..." she gazed blankly at the ground, struggling again to put logic into the events from earlier that flooded back into her mind, "What was all that?" She turned more directly towards the girl confusion and uncertainty hanging on her words, "You were there, weren't you? Did that... that wasn't a dream was it?"

The girl gave her a mixed look of realization and sympathy "Of course, you have no idea about any of..." She hesitated looking for an appropriate word before settling nondescriptly on "this,". Pausing briefly she continued "The dirty short of it, is you were trapped in the realm of a creature made of magic and suffering, a witch. They prey upon unwary humans such as yourself. Luckily, we were there to pull you out of that mess." She cast Svetlana a reassuring smile that didn't really work.

Svetlana paused, the expression on her face indicating clearly that her confusion wasn't lifted, "So wait... witches? It didn't even look like a witch, no old woman flying about, that thing was..." She stopped, staring into the ground in frightened recollection.

Anna cast a confused look at the girl crouched behind the crates before an uproar of laughter took hold. She attempted to compose herself but faint chuckles came through on her words, "Sorry, I forgot witches are quite a bit different in folk tales." The laughter died and a serious expression took hold. "No a witch is far worse than that, it's the disembodied soul of a young girl, trapped and suffering, it's our job to hunt them, and by doing so delay that eventual fate."

A sad silence took hold between the two of them. Anna eventually interrupted, "Why don't you come out from behind there, get settled somewhere more comfortable where we can talk."

Svetlana stood up, unconsciously pushing herself up by the crate before grimacing in pain as she was reminded of the injuries sustained during her escape, falling back on her knees.

Anna gave her an alarmed look, "What happened to your hands?" She moved herself adjacent to the injured girl, and crouched next to her and tenderly placing her strange gem onto the crate. "May I see them?"

Svetlana glanced up, briefly unsure before offering her hand to the other girl, wrapped messily in the now stained cotton sheets. She winced as the concerned girl tenderly unwrapped the bandages, revealing the deep gouges from where the chain had bit into the flesh, the chain itself still tightly gripped to the wrist.

A angry look took hold on the girls face before she placed her hands tenderly above the wounds, the strange gem took on a deep green glow as the pain began to subside. Svetlana pulled her hands from below, revealing nothing but pink lines to indicate that anything had taken place.

Anna glanced toward the direction of her companions, taking on an angry and sarcastic tone, "You managed to get her to maul herself quite badly Natalia, congratulations"

The first girl called from beyond the doorway, with a tone of ambivalence "And? Look she's just some random girl, just send her off on her way and that'll be the end of it."

Anna stood up turning angrily down the hallway, "Listen, to be honest, she was hurt bad out there, she needs our help, if we let her go..." Her tone became pleading "She'll... she'll be dead in a day..."

Shifting herself from behind the crates Svetlana brought herself to the doorway, nervously she slowly peeked from behind the corner. She was greeted with the sight of three girls, two were facing their sides and back to her, the third, shorter than her companions, but holding a grizzled authoritative look behind her worn out jacket and hat gave Svetlana a quick glance before returning to address her companions. "You know there are literally hundreds of girls in equally dire straits, saving one isn't going to help"

Anna turned to her, "Look, she could be of help, watch the encampment while we're gone, I don't know..."

The first girl hesitated for a bit then spoke in a governing manner, "Fine Anna, she can stay, but don't forget this..." She stopped and suddenly glanced intently at the golden gem attached to the ring on her finger. Pausing briefly she turned to her companions, "The witch is back, and close"

She rushed up the stairs, turning to her companions suddenly " In five minutes, be topside, we can't let it get away this time." Turning back suddenly she glanced towards the doorway Svetlana was still partially hidden behind. "Bring the girl along, I want to keep her in sight," she eyed the girlcoolly, "that way we can make sure she doesn't do anything stupid while we're gone."

Anna looked a bit put off by this comment but turned to her new friend with only an encouraging smile, "Come on, Svetlana, we've got some business to take care of!"


End file.
